


Of Men And Daemons

by sunaddicted



Series: 00q Daemons AU [2]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Daemons, Banter, Caretaking, Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Dates, Heart-to-Heart, M/M, Mission Related, POV Alternating, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, Storms, Surprises, Tenderness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:01:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25782538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunaddicted/pseuds/sunaddicted
Summary: [...]“Do you want to sleep here?”“Of course they’re sleeping here!” Celeste piped up, her head poking out of the nest to glare at her human.“If it’s not a problem” James added.“You stealing cars is a problem, not you sleeping on the couch - come on, help me to set it up”[...]
Relationships: James Bond/Q
Series: 00q Daemons AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1883956
Comments: 54
Kudos: 145
Collections: A Party In Sherwood





	1. Haven

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Of Good And Dust](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25555561) by [sunaddicted](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunaddicted/pseuds/sunaddicted). 



> HAPPY BIRTHDAY CHRISTINE! Thank you so much for being first and foremost an amazing and supportive friend: my fandom experience would be a lot poorer without the excitement and joy you bring to it!  
> I hope you like this little gift and that you have the most lovely day!
> 
> For new readers, this work is inspired to another fic of mine, but you don't need to read _Of Good And Dust _to understand this one!__

_ Haven _

There was knocking at the window.

Q lived on the fifth floor, not anywhere near the ground where someone could have reached out and knocked at his window - especially not in the middle of the night, while London was being washed clean of its filth and smog by a storm.

Really, there was only one option as to who it was and Celeste seemed to have gotten there too, agitatedly moving her head up and down and flicking her tail while she encouraged him to hurry in her tinny voice, made even thinner and higher-pitched by stress “Come on! Come on, it’s  _ Denebola _ !” 

It wasn’t like they knew many people with bird daemons and they were intimately familiar only with one: James Bond; Q’s belly did a nervous somersault at the thought of the man out there in the deluge, driven out into the bad weather for whatever reason he had come to relay.

He had to stay  _ calm _ .

It was more easily said than done.

Finally Q managed to extricate himself from the sheets, feet hitting the floor with a loud thump that reverberated up from his heels to his knees, and he shot for the window as he thrust the glasses on his face; he hated being suddenly woken up, it left him disoriented - unable to react with the promptness he liked to retort to anything with “Okay, okay” Q picked up Celeste,trusting her to climb her way up to a comfortable and safe perch, and he gently moved the cats away with his foot before he threw the window open, grimacing at the rain that immediately pelted him.

Of course, the knocking started up at the door too.

“Fucking timing”

“Stop complaining!”

Q thought that he was quite entitled to being a little grumpy when he had a soaked magpie flying in agitated circles around his flat -  _ dripping everywhere _ \- and an equally soaked agent walking past the door “Stay there for a second” Q ordered, holding up a halting finger in front of the other man “Denebola, you too! Calm down and pick a spot” he hissed, both in an attempt at not waking up the neighbours - if they hadn’t already, which seemed unlikely - and because Bond had the brilliant idea of turning the lights on suddenly, without even the smallest of warnings.

Insufferable.

_ Rude _ .

“Denebola, come here”

The magpie zipped past them in a rather terrifying manner, reminiscent of those videos Q had found on the Internet in which Australian magpies dove down onto unsuspecting humans with the kind of aggression and violence that Q had always thought only big birds of prey to possess; there were no doubts about the fact that Denebola could be as deadly as Bond was, both of them were packed full of the same dangerous energy.

Q shivered, trying not to flinch at what looked like a simulated attack - only that it ended with the magpie landing square into Bond’s chest and snuggling there, clearly in search for warmth and a safe hiding spot out of the storm - and ducked into the bathroom to grab the closest towels on hand, figuring neither daemon nor man would complain too much about them having been already used.

And if they did, well, they could go and fuck themselves: it was 3:57 am for God’s sake.

_ After _ they told him what was wrong, of course.

Q held open the smallest towel “Come here Denebola” he encouraged, ready to catch the shivering magpie while Bond took the other towel for himself once he had let go of his daemon, careful of not accidentally dislodging Celeste when he picked the towel up from Q’s shoulder.

He knew he could trust Q, otherwise they wouldn’t have gone to the younger man’s flat, but James couldn’t deny that he still felt somewhat anxious as he surveilled the other’s arms close around Denebola, expertly wrapping the towel around her without actually touching her directly - despite that, it felt like the other had caressed a bare nerve ending with his fingertips.

It was intense, far more than he could endure in that moment.

“Thank you” he murmured as he eagerly reached out for the bundle, some of the involuntary tension that had gathered between his shoulderblades melting away as soon as Denebola’s familiar weight was back in his arms.

“It’s okay, come in”

James followed after Q, smiling at Celeste who kept looking back at them with worry - trying to comfort her even when he was the one in need of a safe haven, somewhere he could just be and feel sheltered while he sorted himself back together; it wasn’t exactly uncommon for him to be in a bad and strange mood after a mission - what was uncommon was that he had ceded to Denebola’s nattering and had decided to seek out help, instead of trying to stave off the sudden bout of nerves and anxiety with alcohol. 

He still wasn’t sure it had been a great idea.

James sat down at the small kitchen table, putting Denebola down on it only when it seemed that the cats had decided not to jump on it and join them, seemingly more busy weaving between Q’s ankles in a way that James could only suppose it was begging for food. How he didn’t accidentally trample them was a mystery, James decided as he tried to parse whether Q’s irritation derived from the fact that he was in his home or only from the fact that he had been woken up so suddenly in the middle of the night - or maybe both.

“Sugar? Milk?”

“No”

Q hummed and set down in front of the agent a mug full of tea: it was the only way to warm the man up, really - that or a shower but Q didn’t exactly have any dry clothes that would fit the man once he climbed out of it and he didn’t think his heart could take a naked James Bond prancing around his flat.

No, definitely not.

He observed from above the rim of his own mug as Celeste not-so-subtly approached Denebola and slithered in her cocoon “Why would you do something so stupid and reckless”

“It wasn’t raining when we left home”

“Still! Look at you, you’re soaking”

“I’m fine”

“ _ And _ shaking”

“It’s the body’s normal response to-”

“-being cold and soaking wet, which you wouldn’t be if you hadn’t flown through a storm!”

Well, that was…  _ embarrassing _ .

Q cleared his throat in an attempt at stopping Celeste’s nattering but she was on a roll and she completely disregarded him in favour of ranting at Denebola even while trying to squeeze as close as possible to the other daemon, no matter that the magpie’s sodden feathers hardly could be that comfortable to snuggle in.

Why did she have to be so obvious?

Q tried to ignore the flush he could feel rising to his cheeks, even as he knew Bond’s blue eyes were taking it all in “Are you okay?”

“Yes”

Would it be rude to point out to the man that nobody who was actually okay would leave their home in the middle of the night, with the forecast promising heavy rains? Probably “Are you sure? If you don’t tell me what it is, I can’t help”

James shrugged, tightening the towel around his shoulders as if that would protect him - from what, he wasn’t really sure: he knew that Q wouldn’t judge him nor deem him weak “I just…” he shrugged again, feeling as uncomfortable as Denebola must have - only that he wasn’t getting a snuggle out of it too “I couldn’t be alone”

“Oh” that explained the suddenness of the man’s arrival, the lack of planning “Do you want to sleep here?”

“Of course they’re sleeping here!” Celeste piped up, her head poking out of the nest to glare at her human.

“If it’s not a problem” James added.

“You stealing cars is a problem, not you sleeping on the couch - come on, help me to set it up” it seemed that, afterall, he would have to find something for the other man to wear.

_ Dear Lord. _

Q tried to ignore the warmth blooming in his chest at the idea that Bond had come to him for safety and reassurance: it wouldn’t do to fall in love with a Double-Oh - or fall any deeper than he had already had.


	2. Devotional

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can entirely blame my fellow villains (yes, of course the lair is still thriving even if the Fest is over: evil never sleeps!) for the Daemons AU becoming a series in its own right.

_Devotional_

Predictably, the following morning there was absolutely no trace of Bond and Denebola in the flat and while Q attempted to squash down on the disappointment, Celeste had no intentions of making even the smallest of efforts towards upholding some kind of façade, moodily moping over the back of one of the cats, letting herself be carried around aimlessly until Turing decided he was done playing taxi for a sulky fire salamander - and Q couldn’t really blame him if he ended up swiping at Celeste, her mood was affecting his as well and Q was trying so very hard not to feel like they had been used and discarded.

He wasn’t sure about why they both were so torn up about both agent and daemon pulling a disappearing act on them: what else had they expected - to wake up to the scent of tea brewing and of bacon browning in the pan? to see Bond waltz around the kitchen while the cats rubbed up against his calves as if he had alway been part of their morning routine? to hear Denebola snipe at her human while she preened on the table, uncaring of the fact that her feathers weren’t supposed to be anywhere near where they would eat?

How utterly _ridiculous_.

Q sighed and as Turing slinked once again close to his chair, he leaned down and picked up Celeste “Come on, it’s not like we aren’t going to see them at work”

“But they left”

“That tends to happen when you don’t tie people and daemons to the furniture” he tried to joke in an attempt at lightening up the atmosphere a little: it wasn’t even midday, Q couldn’t imagine spending the rest of the day wallowing in self-pity like some lovesick teenager - firstly, because he wasn’t a teenager and secondly, because he liked to delude himself that they hadn’t reached the lovesick stage of infatuation yet.

Q had always been especially good at closing the eyes in front of personal truths he wasn’t quite ready to read.

“We should have done that” Celeste sniffed.

“Sure, and broken their trust in the process”

Apparently, the observation was solid enough that Celeste didn’t find a witty reply in herself to hurl at him; the fact was both a relief - Q really didn’t have the energies to have a bantering match with the salamander - and worrisome: Celeste always had a retort on the tip of her tongue. Despite how shy she could be, especially with strangers, she not only was very opinionated on almost everything under the sun but she also had quite the temper that fuelled her witty - and sometimes downright mean - remarks; Q knew that a daemon’s personality reflected their human’s somehow and he wasn’t quite sure of how he felt about what Celeste’s character revealed about him - he just hoped that his own mean streak was just as well concealed as Celeste’s was.

“I’m just saying, Denebola could have said goodbye to me at least”

“Oh, so I’m not worthy of a farewell?”

“You humans make things so much more… complicated”

Was it really complicating things, being careful when the person you are interested in is a coworker with a history of bad relationships behind his back, trust issues a mile wide and a penchant for dying every other year? 

Q thought not.

Celeste clearly was of another opinion.

It was rare that they disagreed on something and it made him feel weird, as if there was something jarred between them; it made Q wonder how people who were constantly at odds with their daemons survived, it was just so… inconceivable - it sent a shiver of disgust down his spine that Q shook away with a bone-deep shudder “Let’s get a shower”it would be nice for them both, catching two birds with one stone as the saying went: the water falling upon her like rain would help Celeste to feel better, reminding her of the mossy nooks her kind liked to hide in, and Q would benefit from the heat that hopefully would melt some of the tension in his shoulders, allowing him to walk into work in a better mood - their line of work was hard enough without adding to its tension all the slew of weird and negative feelings that originated from personal problems.

He padded to the bathroom, trying to ignore the fact that _someone_ clearly had changed the towels, unfolding clean and fluffy ones on the rack - he supposed that if he bothered to look in the hamper, Q would find the towels he had leant Bond and Denebola the previous night, still damp and smelling of the rain they had gotten caught in during their mad dash to their flat.

Somehow, the fact that the two of them had been considerate only made Q feel more irritated.

He gently placed Celeste down in the soap basket he purposefully kept empty in a corner of the shower box for his daemon to soak up the gently falling water and the humidity without running the risk of trampling or half-drowning her; it was a practical way to stay as close as possible even in such moments of necessity, avoiding the strain on their bond. Not for the first time, as he lathered his hair up with a woodsy smelling shampoo, Q wondered about how the agent and Denebola could stand being apart for any length of time, even if they were made for it in a way that Q and Celeste weren’t - in a way most humans and daemons were made to endure.

In his opinion all the advantages that came from the ability to be able to stay so far apart still didn’t trump the discomfort and the pain of distance - no, while Q could envy people with witch’s blood and their daemons, he would have never wanted to leave Celeste out of his sight and reach: the mere thought was enough to make him want to recoil, his whole being wracked by gentle waves of phantom pain as if it was trying to protect itself, to build up some resistance to the agony that would follow if he truly ended up being separated from Celeste.

Q flicked away those thoughts as if he would a clump of foam straying too close to his eyes and ducked beneath the spray before the relaxing powers of the shower could be ruined: it would be just a shame to waste all that warm water and not reap a single benefit from it. It already would be hard to actually get rid of the feeling of having been used by the agent, Q didn’t need to add morose thoughts about a violent separation from Celeste to that; the shower was a moment to focus on himself, to find his center once again so that he could walk out of his flat feeling steadier at least, if not happier.

It was a devotional act to himself.

Q shut off the water and picked up Celeste, letting her climb up to his shoulder while he went on about his business in the bathroom.

“We should talk to them”

“And tell them what, exactly? _Ehi, mind telling us while you disappeared without making us breakfast?_ ” despite the cutting sarcasm in his voice though, Q couldn’t deny being curious about what exactly Celeste thought they could tell Bond and Denebola.

Celeste, in a rare display of animosity towards Q, gently bit him on the shoulder and clung to him for dear life, anticipating the jerk his muscles gave at the feeling of her sharp nip to the bare flesh “I’m not sure” she started, looking at Q through the mirror - not that she thought he would be able to see her as more than a black blob without his glasses on “But we should talk to them because if we don’t, they’ll think we are mad at them”

“Which we are”

Celeste nodded “ They don’t need to know that, though: we don’t want them to pull away”

And much to Q’s displeasure, that was an undeniable truth: they couldn’t risk pushing them away, they were too hooked on their attentions; on their smouldering focus; on the banter - on the _trust_ that had cemented to the point that Bond and Denebola had come to them in the hour of need, when they had felt they couldn’t be alone with themselves.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to post this when I was done with the other chapters but the truth is, I'm stuck and need motivation lmao


	3. Control

_ Control _

“Take a left, 005 -  _ left, not right _ ” Q’s sigh was infused with frustration as he stuck his fingers under his glasses and vainly tried to rub the tiredness away, uncaring of the way his knuckles knocked into the lenses and smudged them.

Why did he even bother to actually slip on his headset and try to get his agents through missions without dying or getting seriously injured when they were so hellbent on ignoring his orders and doing whatever the fuck they thought was best? Q understood that they were the ones with the experience to back them up and actually on the field, where they certainly could glean information that, no matter his efforts, Q just couldn’t receive from the other side of a computer, miles away from where they were fighting for their lives, dodging bullets and fists in the name of a Queen and Country that often didn’t care enough back - but if they just listened to him a bit more! All the orders he gave were carefully pondered, taking in consideration as many variables as possible to make up for the inevitable blind spots he had due to the fact he was sitting tight in London, warm in his cardigan, steaming tea close by and Celeste safely curled in the hollow of his throat or on his shoulder -  _ safe _ .

There was no time to despair, though: Q straightened his shoulders and tightened his lips, watching intently the video feed he had on 005.

It didn’t mean that he was unaware of his surroundings, though “Any input to offer?”

James smoothly hid his surprise at Q apparently sensing his presence behind him, arms crossed and Denebola perched on his shoulder while he observed the younger man rein in his irritation so that he could help 005, sparing the scolding for when she would be back home. He wondered about whether he made Q look the same way when he was the one on the other side of the comms, taking turns he wasn’t supposed to while high on adrenaline - probably.

He didn’t feel particularly guilty about it.

“No, you have everything in hand”

“So gracious of you to recognize I can do my job, if only you could keep that in mind while you’re in the field”

James blinked, taken aback by the harsh edges of Q’s words; it wasn’t exactly rare for them to bicker but the other man hardly ever sounded so… biting “Are you mad at me?” he inquired, tilting his head to the side in concert with Denebola when they heard Celeste let out a noise that was reminiscent of a scoff, the daemon tucked so close to Q that they couldn’t see her but she clearly had no qualms about letting them know what she thought of his question.

“No” Q said, lips tightening immediately after saying the words as he remembered what he and Celeste had convened on: it would be unwise to let the other two know that they were upset with them, the most likely outcome would be that they withdrew and it wasn’t worth it - not just for the satisfaction saying that yes, they were quite mad at them: who the fuck disappeared in the morning when they weren’t even fleeing some drunken shag? He forced his shoulders to relax, losing some of the tension in his muscles “No, I just hate it when I lose control like this”

“But you are in control” James stepped closer, hands hovering over the back of Q’s chair while Denebola jumped on the desk, careful of steering away from the man at work but still trying to catch sight of Celeste, wondering about how the daemon hadn’t come out to greet her yet - it was… unnerving, Denebola was used to the other seeking out her company.

Q snorted “This is what being in control looks like to you?” he turned back on the microphone of his headset, fingers flying over the keyboard “Take the elevator, 005. Third floor. Three man outside the door, you should have enough ammo to take care of all of them”

“Roger, Q”

“See?”

The other man briefly glanced up, trying to study the expression on the agent’s face “What?”

“Control”

Q rolled his eyes before training them back on the screen, even if the fact that Bond trusted him to be in control even when an agent went off the rails was satisfying, it made him feel like his hard work actually was appreciated - at least a little. He let one of the corners of his lips tug upwards, more of a smirk rather than a smile, while he nervously looked from 005, who was tightening the grip on her gun after pushing on the button for the third floor, to the men awaiting her “Still three” Q reassured.

“A walk in the park” she scoffed, reaching down to caress her daemon’s head; the panther’s back was pulled as taut as a violin string, all violence and aggression coiled beneath beautiful black fur that always made Q’s fingers itch with the want to caress that luscious mantel - atìfterall, when would he ever have a chance to touch a panther? It wasn’t his fault that he had always been enamoured with cats, no matter their sizes.

Still he resisted out of respect, feeling like a kid in need of a scolding because of the strange desire that overcame him from time to time.

“Could have been even more relaxing if you had taken a left when I told you so”

005 looked up at the camera, her trained eyes finding it easily “Gotta keep you on your toes Q, we can’t have you get lazy”

As if he would ever allow himself such a fall from grace.

James listened in on Q bickering with his colleague, something ugly curling in the pit of his stomach as he tightened his hands on the edge of the chair, knuckles brushing the other’s sweater; he had known that Q got along with his colleagues, of course: everyone and their mothers sang the Quartermaster’s praises but his brain hadn’t quite made the connection with that fact and Q bantering as easily with them as he did with him.

He shouldn’t have felt jealous - not over something so stupid.

Not over someone who wasn’t even  _ his _ .

Denebola puffed up her chest, inflated by the same strange annoyance that was pervading her human: what if they liked 005 and Brutus better than they did them? She sent a glance at the panther tearing into one of the goons’ daemons - sure, she could go for the eyes and look vicious while she was at it but what if Celeste was more attracted to the panther’s brutal strength? The thought only made her puff up more, her breast feathers ruffled by annoyance as Q finally slumped against his chair to watch 005 safely make her way out of the building, making way for her to crowd him as closely as possible so that she could get to Celeste “Rude”

Celeste blinked “You’re rude”

“You didn’t say hello”

“You’re saying it just now” the fire salamander pointed out, slowly making her way down Q’s arm “ _ You’re rude _ ” for a variety of reasons, leaving her to wake up alone in her nest included.

“Why don’t you let me treat you to a cup of tea?” James inquired, ignoring their daemons “I’m sure you could use one, you look tired” and it didn’t look like Q had another mission to follow, his monitors were all trained on 005 or running lines of code that it would take him more concentration than he had at his disposal in that moment to actually figure out.

“Fine” Q answered after a second of pondering, unable to resist the sudden invitation: it wasn’t like them, to grab tea and possibly snacks; usually Bond dumped on his desk some kind of delicacy snagged in whatever foreign airport he had been last or quietly refilled his mug whenever he was too engrossed in his work - he certainly didn’t invite him  _ out. _ “Will I be needing a jacket?”

“Of course, if I had wanted you to have tea from the cafeteria, I would have just brought it to you”

“Cool”

“Is this a date?” Celeste whispered when he picked her up, doing his nerves absolutely no favours.

_ Cool _ \- he had to keep his cool.

  
  



	4. Monument

_ Monument _

“You’re oddly silent”

“Do you prefer it when I snark in your ears?”

“Actually, yes”

“You’re so weird” Q sighed, leaning into the back of his chair, hands lazily steepled over his stomach while he watched the monitors in front of him; on his shoulder, Celeste was peacefully snoozing the night away, completely uninterested in the unfolding of the mission when Denebola and Bond weren’t in any danger at all.

“You like it”

That was a little too close to the truth “You wish”

“Why did you let me in your apartment in the middle of the night then?”

_ Because I’m a fool _ “Because I’m a decent man, I would have done it for any other colleague” Bond  _ was _ special but not to the point that it made the man better or privileged in his eyes: Q liked him for who he was, flaws and all - not because he regarded him as superior by some kind of standard he had secretly set and that the other man didn’t know he fit all the criteria of. 

“True - but you wouldn’t have agreed to tea with just anyone”

Fine,  _ that _ was true “Tea that we didn’t end up not having”

“You know I’m dragging you to a proper parlour when I come back”

Q would have been lying to himself if he didn’t admit how the comment, thrown casually at him that nonchalance that drove Q mad with a whirl of complicated emotions tangled all together, made his heartbeat pick up speed in his chest - so much that he felt Celeste stir on his shoulder; it hadn’t been enough to wake her but he knew that he had to keep a better hold on himself if he didn’t want to interrupt her snoozing.

It wasn’t  _ that _ common for daemons to sleep when their humans were awake but Q figured out that their sleeping cycles were so out of sync because of the insane hours they kept - and why should have Celeste stayed awake when he didn’t need her to check the monitors for him while he typed? She deserved some rest and Q had no intentions of keeping her awake just because it was a little  _ odd _ that she was asleep while he wasn’t.

“Have you disappeared on me?”

“That’s your move, not mine” the words were out of his mouth before his brain-to-mouth filters could do anything to keep the treacherous sentence from rolling down his tongue drenched in way too much bitterness for Q to comfortably acknowledge without running the risk of spontaneously self-combusting.

_ Fuck _ .

Well, it wasn’t like Q had never wanted to talk about it because he still felt hurt by the way the man had just disappeared on him - but he would have preferred doing it while sipping on a steaming cup of tea and with snacks to absentmindedly ponder while they talked, so that he wouldn’t have had to look the man in the face.

Not that he was looking at him in the face right there and then: James had holed up in a squalid motel without cameras on the inside and all Q had his eyes on were the shabby entrance where the night porter was diluting the night away with crosswords and the deserted street outside - if it could be even called a street when the asphalt was so worn down that it didn’t really seem fit to the passage of cars, not without irreparably ruining their suspensions at least.

“Is this about the other morning?”

“ _ This _ ?

“You being upset at me”

“I’m not upset at you”

“You’re a bad liar” 

Hadn’t the other’s chuckle been so rich and warm, Q would have probably taken offense about being told that he wasn’t a good liar: he was a spy, of course he could lie - maybe not as well as James and any other Double-Oh who went out in the field and had to keep the skill as sharpened as a good knife but he wasn’t a bad liar “I’m really not”

“I have been trying to figure out for weeks why you were upset with me”

“Getting old, I see”

“I thought I was already old”

“Well -  _ older _ ” 

“Sure”

Q rolled his eyes “You are, frankly, extremely annoying and bad news for my nerves”

“And you realised that just now?”

“No” of course not: it would have been stupid to fall in love with someone like James withtout being fully aware of just how irritating the man could be - not that falling in love with a Double-Oh with extensively and thoroughly documented commitment issues was particulalry smart, conscious of the other’s character flaws or not.

Q really preferred not dwelling on that particular point too much: it wouldn’t really change his feelings, it would only make him depressed about them.

“I just didn’t want to wake you up” James murmured in the protracted silence, gently pushing Denebola away with a finger against her fluffy breast when she crowded too close to his ear so that she could listen on Q’s words filtered by the earwig “You don’t sleep as much as you should, I didn’t see a reason why I should have woken you up just to tell you that I was leaving” it had been a courteous gesture in his mind - a considerate one; James hadn’t thought even for a second that waking up to his apartment once again empty would upset Q.

If he hadn’t liked the other man as much as he did, James would have admittedly been very annoyed by that reaction; it would have made him feel trapped, as if someone was asking too much of him - he already gave so much for Queen and Country, neediness wasn’t something he could deal with in a partner.

He just didn’t have the energies for it.

Still, he liked Q - the fact that he was willing to talk and make things right was just a monument to  _ how much _ he liked the younger man - and she had the feeling that there was more than neediness behind the man’s upset.

“I would have preferred it”

“Why?”

“You weren’t in the best state when you came to my home, James”

“I’m aware - so what?”

“So what?!”

The indignation in Q’s voice was always funny, sometimes James purposefully riled him up just to hear it “Yeah”

“I was obviously worried, your coping mechanisms are shit”

_ Oh _ .

It wasn’t that James was unaware of people caring about him but he wasn’t used to them being so vocal about it - he had always wondered about whether something in his demeanour made people think he would deride them if they expressed their care too overtly. Or maybe he just had too many people like himself in his life, who were just as clammed up as he was when it came to anything even remotely emotional - it wouldn’t really be surprising, MI6 wasn’t the kind of line of work that attracted and ensnared socially well adjusted people.

“I was just awake”

“And bored?”

“I usually go for runs in the mornings”

“You’re a  _ monster _ ”

James rolled his eyes at those words, even as the corner of his mouth was tugged up by a smile he couldn’t stop from blossoming on his face - it was good that there was nobody else but Denebola to watch him but she had no room to judge, not when she was constantly covering Celeste in gifts looted here and there without much care for from whom or where she stole “It’s good for your health and your mood, you should try it”

“I would rather die first”

“You’re so dramatic”

“Really rich coming from the likes of you”

“Go to sleep”

“Who are you - my dad?”

“I could be, if you’re into that” James deadpanned, voice serious despite the it was a joke and the fact that Denebola was assaulting him with her beak for it, hissing something about not scaring Q and Celeste away before they even had the chance to actually call them theirs.

“No.  _ Absolutely not _ . No thanks”

“You mean that you’d rather come on runs with me?”

“You know what? Yes. Now  _ you _ go to sleep: you’re old and you have a big day tomorrow”

James chuckled “Fine, fine. Goodnight, my dear Quartermaster” the term of endearment slipped easily past his teeth: he barely could remember a time he hadn’t called the other man that.

“Goodnight, James”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While writing this I asked myself what Raoul's daemon would be and you know what? It's a rat and no, I don't accept criticism on that.


	5. Testament

_ Testament _

James and Denebola debated loudly enough about whether they should keep the lights of Q’s apartment on or off that the other man’s cats had slinked away from them, clearly irritated by their bickering that just wasn’t worth it - not even for nice scritches.

James was of the idea that turning the lights on would have ruined the surprise: what was the point in having broken into Q’s flat and waiting for the man to come back if, upon opening the door, the light would have been a dead giveaway? Denebola insisted that keeping the lights off only would give the other man a heart attack once he realised that there were intruders waiting for him in the dark - no matter that Celeste had excellent night vision: she always was napping all over the place, anyway.

She would have been lying if she said that she didn’t find it absolutely endearing.

“They’ll be tired” Denebola pointed out “I even doubt they actually want us here”

“They were upset that we left”

“That was  _ weeks _ ago”

“The confession about it was only a few days ago, though” James retorted, making himself even more comfortable on the couch, arms crossed over his chest in a way that suggested that he had no intentions of getting up and conceding to Denebola’s opinion: if he hadn’t wanted to surprise Q, he would have just strolled into MI6 with the remains of his equipment and the tiny baklavas dusted with pistachio crumbs wielded as a shield from Q’s anger - instead, the desserts were chilling in the fridge now and hopefully Q would be too taken aback by his sudden appearance in his home and the sweet offerings to remember right away that he was supposed to have come back with more than just his gun.

It was a  _ perfect _ plan - Denebola just didn’t want to see it because she knew she wouldn’t be the one scolded because of missing or damaged equipment. 

“It doesn’t matter: they will be tired and pissed about us breaking into their home”

“Since when are you so against breaking and entering?”

“Since it will make our situation  _ worse _ ”

“Don’t be so dramatic” it wasn’t like they couldn’t fix the others’ feelings with an impromptu tea party after a long day of hard work; they had explained themselves, clarified how it had all been a misunderstanding - that they hadn’t run away for… whatever reason Q might have found upsetting in the first place “They’ll be happy to see that the first thing we did as soon as we touched British soil was to come here” 

Denebola could barely believe that James seriously couldn’t see anything wrong with basically ambushing Q and Celeste “You know what? I’m dissociating myself from this” partly, at least; sure, she could have flown away - out of the building,  _ even _ \- but the fact that they could easily be distant from one another didn’t mean that it was necessarily fun. It was just something that came in handy on missions or when either of them was in danger - not a card she would pull only because James was being  _ dumb _ .

James rolled his eyes at the way his daemon perched on the cat tree, ridiculously fluffed up as she looked out of the window, probably in the hopes of seeing Q and Celeste approach the building from the street so that she could do something like diving for the switch and turning the lights on, ruining the surprise.

As if seeing the lights turned on wasn’t going to scare Q as much as hearing his voice in the dark.

With the second option, at least, James could count on Q not having drawn any kind of weapon yet and the other’s brain or Celeste recognising his voice before they could do so - despite what Denebola might have been thinking, James wasn’t exactly looking forward to being tasered into hospitalization.  _ If _ Q even limited himself to using an undoubtedly modified taser; James refused to believe that someone who designed weapons for a living carried only the one thing on their person, especially someone like Q who had backup plans upon backup plans - it was one of the things that made him such a good Quartermaster.

He relaxed into the sofa, the cushions plumper than those of the scraggly and lumpy excuse of a couch that Q kept in his office - a testament to just how little time the younger man spent home.

A testament to just how devoted Q was to the job; to Queen and Country; to the safety of his agents.

It really was no surprise that the other man had managed to captivate him.

The telltale noise of jingling keys made James perk up (he would need to teach Q to keep them from doing that: in case there really would be someone with bad intentions waiting for him, he surely didn’t want to give out his location) and he shot Denebola a glance that begged her to stay put - sometimes he wondered how it was like, to have a daemon that would obey rather than an independent and pigheaded one but he never managed to really picture it: he loved Denebola as she was.

The door creaked open - another thing he would need to take care of - and James let the cats distract Q with their neediness (for caresses and food, he guessed) as he moved closer, as silent as the shadows that were pooled thick in the flat “Hello, Q”

“What the hell?!?!”

“I told you so” Denebola hissed.

James ignored his daemon’s remark, reaching out to steady Q while skilfully avoiding Celeste; the fire salamander looked tense and ready to bite and while he knew that what really was dangerous about her was the poison, he still wasn’t too excited at the idea of a close encounter with her very sharp teeth “Breathe”

“Fuck!” Q’s hand was plastered on his chest, as if the pressure of the palm against his ribcage would help the maddening beat to slow down - it was just James  _ Bloody _ Bond. He waved his free hand towards the man, trying to communicate that he needed some space while he got back under control both his breathing pattern and his heatrate; he was too young to get a heart attack - at least only because of a scare, right?

Right.

He had to believe that if he wanted to calm down any time soon.

“You’re okay?”

“Does he look okay?!” Celeste squeaked, anxiously digging her claws in the shoulder of her human’s parka “Breathe” she repeated, rather unhelpfully before looking around to find Denebola’s eyes: she wanted to glare straight into the other daemon’s eyes - she was supposed to be the voice of reason!

“I told him not to” Denebola defended herself, fluttering nervously around both man and daemon after clicking the lights on.

“Let’s get you sat down” James encouraged, gently leading Q into the kitchen “I just wanted to surprise you”

“Believe me, you fucking did” Q snarked, feeling a bit better as he slumped against the back of the chair, Celeste cradled soothingly in his hands.

“In a good way, I meant” James retorted, rolling his eyes at the sarcasm that the other man still managed to deliver him despite the scare he had ended up getting “Since we didn’t get to have our date before I was called in for the mission, I thought getting you tea and sweets would be nice”

“I don’t smell any tea”

“Did you expect me to make it before you got home so that we would have to warm up in the microwave? That’s  _ disgusting _ ”

Q wrinkled his nose at the image “Yeah, it is” he wasn’t particularly snobby when it came to food and drinks but he had exacting standards for tea “Did you say sweets?” hadn’t Q been working most of the day with only a snack here and there to keep him going, he still would have been excited at the idea of sweets in his house.

“There are baklavas in the fridge, covered with pistachio crumbs and soaking in a honey and rose syrup”

“Say no more - you’re forgiven: get the tea going and give me some baklava”

James grinned at the easy forgiveness granted him, hand finding the nape of Q’s neck to thumb a caress on the tender skin there “Yes, my dear Quartermaster”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have just another story planned for this series and then I will be done!


End file.
